Star Wars

RI 2000-2004

Disclaimer: Characters are © to their respective people and ultimately, George Lucas. I own nothing and there is no profit involved.

Notes: Rough Draft. Ignore errors.

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Wedge barely had time to think for himself in the middle of commanding a fleet and laying the foundation for a Rebellion. It occurred to him that he was plotting to undermine the very government he had risked his life and lost friends and sweated blood for thirty years earlier. The irony was almost ridiculous.

The light knock on his office door was a welcome interruption to his thoughts. Wedge raised his clear brown eyes. "Come in, Colonel."

"Very formal," Tycho Celchu remarked.

"Force of habit." Too carelessly, Wedge swept desk clutter to the floor. "Sit down. Take off your boots. Prop your feet up. Dance and sing for me."

Taking a seat, Tycho laid one booted ankle over the opposite knee and watched Wedge evenly, pointedly ignoring the offer to make an idiot of himself. The aging General smiled, though weary. "Nice to know some things haven't changed."

Inclining his head in silent acknowledgement, the Alderaanian man responded, "If you want song and dance, you'll have to call on Janson."

At mention of the merry pilot, Wedge's expression remolded into a scowl. "Yes, Janson."

Humor flickered across Tycho's reserved expression. "What was going on at breakfast this morning?" Janson had shown up in the officer's mess wearing a bodysuit designed to make the wearer appear naked. He had worn boots and a cape over this, and had called himself Wedge Antilles, though his astromech had been repainted to look like Corran Horn's droid. Only Wedge understood for certain what he meant. It had to be a very good joke for Janson to be satisfied with only that.

"We'll call it a personal affront and leave it there."

"But there will be retaliation?" Tycho inquired with interest.

A sort of thin smile with a nasty edge to it appeared on Wedge's angular features. He didn't wear that smile often and for whomever it was directed at it usually meant embarrassment at the very least, and utter humiliation at the worst. "I'll be consulting with Intelligence for a proper response," Wedge said calmly. His brown eyes glinted with a promise of mayhem.

Tycho raised a brow. So, whatever it was involved Iella as well. Two Corellians were considered a conspiracy; he wondered what a general and a Corsec officer would be. Tycho gave one of his rare unguarded smiles, looking forward to seeing how it played out.

They spoke for a few minutes more before duty called Tycho away. Wedge sat by himself for only a few minutes before the door was knocked on again. The blows were heavy and deep, indicating that a very big fist was doing the pounding. It gave Wedge a pretty good idea of who was on the other side. "Enter!"

The pair that entered his office would have been an unusual sight anywhere except in a military that had been born--as a direct result--of a revolt against a legitimate, if cruel and unfair, government. That's what passed through Wedge's mind when Voort "Piggy" saBinring and Sharr Latt came through his doorway. They saluted and waited for him to return it and wave to the chairs before seating themselves.

Seating might be too strong of a word, Wedge thought. Sharr more or less dumped his skinny human body in the smallest of the four chairs arranged around the desk. Piggy was more careful out of necessity; throwing his bulk down would break any piece of furniture, chair or otherwise. He settled his massive body in an oversized chair that Wedge had acquired specifically for seating larger species. It was a salvaged short couch from a freighter with arms welded on and thick cushioning. It was just big enough to accommodate Piggy's bulk. The Gammorean closed his tiny eyes and grunted deeply with pleasure. He opened his eyes again and focused on Wedge. "I have been standing all day," he explained. Wedge looked at him with mild sympathy. Despite having stout legs as thick as tree trunks, Piggy carried a great deal of weight. He gave them a moment to get comfortable before turning to business.

"All right," Wedge said. "Report."

Piggy and Sharr exchanged glances; Sharr pulled himself upright and popped his neck, a sign that he was ready to begin. "The Goddess is doing well, better than we'd expected. She doesn't forget herself and rarely ever slips anymore."

"How about her command of Twin Suns?"

"Complete," Piggy responded. "They respect her, even if not everyone likes her. They see that she has the skill and experience."

Wedge steepled his fingers. He frowned, looking back and forth between the two Wraiths-turned-temporary-Twin Suns-pilots. "What of your other concerns?" He was speaking Jaina's relation to his nephew. Piggy and Sharr thought it should be discouraged to prevent it from interfering with the Goddess Ruse.

Piggy looked reluctant. "They are discreet," he said.

"Not discreet enough," Sharr interjected, scowling. "People are going to start noticing, especially if they keep disappearing at the same times, like they did today."

Wedge demanded,"What?"

Piggy folded his stubby-fingered hands over the wide, blubbery expanse of his belly. "They have disappeared," He repeated. "We've tried to contact them. Repeatedly. They don't answer their comlinks. Attempts to locate them produced similar results. At any rate, no one has seen Colonel Fel since early this morning. Jaina was last seen in the hanger just after lunch."

Wedge rubbed his temples. On a ship sixteen hundred meters long and carrying a nearly-full compliment of ships in addition to all the little spaces in the construction design, there was almost no limit to the number of good places to hide. It was a tempting idea. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it.

"This is another reason why I wanted to advise her stow her relationship with Fel-"

"Be quiet, Sharr," Wedge interrupted. He was quiet for a moment, then said, "I'm reluctant to tell them to break it off. Young love aside, they provide support for one another. Jagged isn't well liked because of who he is and where he comes from, but Jaina's in an even worse spot--first because of her slip to the darkside, and now this Goddess thing. I've spoken with Kyp Durron at length about this. He seems to think having Jag close to Jaina is a good thing. "

"Good for Jaina, maybe, bad for the ruse-"

"I said shut up." Wedge leaned on his desk and fisted his hands beneath his chin. He focused his gaze on Piggy. The large being had been strangely quiet. He normally met Sharr comment for comment and insult to barb. Wedge sliced his gaze to skinny human in the ridiculous dress. "You've made it clear that you think it's a bad idea for this--a relation between my nephew and Jaina--to continue. How certain are you that it will damage what we're trying to accomplish with the Goddess Ruse?"

"Absolutely certain," Sharr answered. "If a spy sees them and understands what he's seeing."

" 'Absolutely' and 'if' don't generally go in the same sentence," Wedge remarked. "What about you, Piggy?"

"It's a complicated and complex situation, with good and bad attributes going both ways," Piggy answered neutrally.

Wedge stared at the massive porcine sentient, waiting for more. It became clear fairly quickly that Piggy wasn't going to say anything else. The cryptic response was unlike the Wraith's normally direct-and-factually manner of answering. It became clear to Wedge that the decision was in his hands. "Leave them alone," he said decisively.

He saw the dissatisfied look cross Sharr's face. "And don't give them a hard time about it either," he warned. "Life in war is bad enough without the kind of pressure Jaina's dealing with. Don't add more because there's a situation you don't like."

Wedge knew he might be accused of favoritism…and it might not be far off. But Wedge felt strongly about this. The two young pilots in question were both very close to his heart, like family. One of them *was* family, a tentative connection to a sister he hadn't seen in twenty years, hopefully a first step in re-establishing contact with her. Jaina was his hold-daughter, a precious child he had watched grow into a striking young woman. Close enough to be family. And his family--though lucky so far to escape injury and death that plagued so many--had been hurt enough.

******

Jag and Jaina fell asleep on the soft pile of blankets, tangled together beneath Jag's flight jacket. Jaina had no idea what time it was when she drifted up from her dreamless sleep. She wasn't particularly inclined to move to find out. She pressed closer to Jag's side, wrapped securely in his arm, resting her head on his chest. She could feel his heart beating beneath her cheek. To Jaina, the cool dark room and the warm presence next to her were shelter from the tumult that reigned over her waking moments. She hadn't realized how tense she'd become until she had relaxed.

Jaina lifted her head from Jag's chest to look up at him and found him already staring down at her. His icy green eyes narrowed in the slightest of smiles for her. He had slept little, mostly just content to be Jaina's pillow for awhile. Feeling her taut body gradually relax as she slept was gratifying. It meant dinner had accomplished its purpose.

He freed one hand to brush back a stray lock of her hair, turning the economical movement into a brief caress of her cheek. Jaina closed her eyes and turned into his palm, giving it a light kiss. Her eyes opened again and found his, a slight smile playing on her lips. Jag ran his fingers through her hair a few more times, brushing it away from her face, then slipped his hand back beneath his head. Jaina yawned and shifted, snuggling closer to his side and dropping her chin to rest on his ribs. "I guess we should start cleaning up," she said reluctantly.

Jag lifted his wrist to peer at his watch over her shoulder. It was much later than he thought. Jaina had slept for more than two hours. "Almost twenty-three hundred," he murmured. "I suppose you're right." It occurred to Jag that they'd been out of contact for more than five hours. His uncle might be organizing a search party by now.

Jaina reluctantly sat up, shivering despite of the flight jacket around her shoulders. It felt chilly without Jag's warmth. While she reached for the boots she had cast aside hours ago he rose and began cleaning up. He shuffled around in his bag for more glowsticks first and snapped them in half to release the light-producing chemicals. He gathered up the trash and packed the dishes, silverware and glasses with care. Jaina helped him sort out the remaining food into the proper containers. They hadn't finished the brandy or the wine so Jag tightly re-corked the bottles for later. While he slipped everything back into his pack, Jaina shut down the holocube and gathered up all the glowrods and sticks lying around.

At one point Jaina wrapped her arms around Jag from behind and laid her cheek on his back. Her right hand gently explored the tight muscles of his abdomen and chest. She worked her way up to his collar bone and across his wonderfully defined upper chest, lightly rubbing and massaging with her fingertips. With great deliberation she trailed her fingers back down the center of his rib cage, all the way down to the waistband of his flightpants, then lightly raked her fingernails across his belly.

Jag held perfectly still, a slight shudder passing through his body once. Jaina sensed and felt his heartrate increase. His breathing became lighter and faster. Jag didn't stand for this kind of teasing for much longer. He grabbed her hands to still them and twisted around. Jag picked her up and set her down atop one of the tarp-covered crates, then stepped smoothly between her legs and kissed her. When he pulled back her touched his slightly damn forehead to hers. His hands rested on the junction of her neck and shoulders, stroking the underside of her jaw with his thumbs. Jaina leaned against him, her brandy colored gaze fixed sadly on his frosty green eyes.

Jag's voice broke the quiet. "We need to finish here and go."

"I know," Jaina answered miserably. She didn't want to leave. She knew that time alone with Jag was going to be harder and harder to get, especially if her 'advisors' had their way. She locked her legs around him to prevent him from backing away and gave him one last long, lingering kiss. Then, heaving a sigh, she allowed him to pull her off the crate and set her on her feet. Jaina held on to him for a few seconds, then dropped her arms and turned away blindly to gather their things up. Jag quietly followed suit and escorted her to the door, one hand resting lightly on the small of her back. The click of the door behind them seemed like an end signal to Jaina.

Out in the hallway she used the Force to call the glowrods to her hand as they walked. Wordlessly she handed them to Jag, who switched them off and deposited them in his bag. They were almost to the end of the line when something struck the ship.

Jaina was tossed sideways to the floor. Jag was thrown against the wall. He managed to turn at the last second and take the impact on his back. He slid to a crouch and set his bag on the floor. Jaina had already recovered and was climbing to her feet when a second projectile rocked the massive Star Destroyer. Delayed alarms began to shriek and a cool voice repeated over and over, "All pilots to ships. All pilots to ships." Another voice, not nearly so calm, broke in over the automated call to announce, "All crew to battle stations. A Yuzhaan Vong fleet has arrived in-system…"

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End chapter Six.

Ohh, a cliffhanger. Chapter seven hopefully coming soon, with sufficient reviews.

Author's notes: All right. I promised you my really good excuse, and here it is: I became very sick in August and had to be hospitalized for two weeks. Since then I've been on tons of medication and painkillers, and some days are just worse than others. Between my health and freshman college courses, I've been kind of struggling to create a new kind of school/life balance. Doesn't always leave time and energy to write. So. I'll try my best with the writing, if you'll keep reviewing and keep me interested in writing these things.

TTFN, Resh.